


Handmade

by rixsig-writes (rixsig)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Teasing, saeran tries and fails to be grumpy, zen is a major goofball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rixsig/pseuds/rixsig-writes
Summary: Saeran's been more reclusive than usual lately and Zen can't help but be curious.





	Handmade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/gifts), [CannibalKats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/gifts).



> a small fluffy thing born from a twitter convo earlier this morning ♥

Saeran’s been hiding something. 

Not a bad something—Saeran doesn’t seem tense or sharp like he can get on a bad day—but for the past week he’s been retreating into his room in their apartment and closing the door in a very pointed ‘don’t disturb me’ sort of way, and Zen has to wonder exactly what he’s up to. His first thought had been an art project, but when that’s the case he usually emerges slathered in charcoal dust or paint and then he’ll shuffle over to the bathroom to scrub it off. Saeran’s been leaving his room squeaky clean these past few times so Zen’s at a loss.

“You can stop giving me the puppy eyes, you dork.” Saeran mutters with a hint of a smile as he leaves his room one saturday afternoon. “I’m done anyway.”

Oops. He’s been caught. Zen grins disarmingly and saunters forward, trying to get a good look at the bundle of something Saeran’s holding in the crook of one of his arms, but Saeran pushes him back with his other hand and keeps pushing until Zen’s forced to walk backwards from the door of Saeran’s room and through the door into his own room. “Oooh, this is going in an interesting direction.” Zen teases.

“Shut up.” Saeran laughs, dropping the bundle in Zen’s hands. 

It’s soft. Really soft. Zen lifts his arms and lets it unfold and is struck completely dumb. It’s...a turtleneck. Like the ones he always wears, but obviously not factory manufactured. His fingers rub against it for a second, appreciating the yarn, and then he turns his stunned gaze over to Saeran who’s looking a little stiff right now.

“You made this?” Zen asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yeah.” 

A glowingly fond look passes over Zen’s face. “I didn’t know you knew how to knit.”

Saeran relaxes and shrugs nonchalantly. “I learned a lot of things when I was under my brother’s version of house arrest.” 

“Oh? I’ll try to prepare myself for when you reveal another unexpected talent then, but maybe you should give me a hint just in case.” Zen pulls off his tanktop and starts pulling on the turtleneck. “Maybe tightrope walking? Sword swallowing? Juggling?”

Saeran snorts, eyes tracking the shift of Zen’s muscles as his arms pull the sweater down his torso. “Those sound more like things my brother might know. He’s the one that acts like he just came from the circus.”

Zen laughs, tugging it the last bit of the way down. He grabs his hair and pulls it through and spreads his arms out wide. “So? How’s it look?”

“You already know it looks good on you. Everything looks good on you.” Saeran’s eyes make another appreciative circuit up and down, assessing. “How’s it feel?”

“It’s perfect.” Zen lets his arms drop and then shrugs his shoulders a few times. “Perfect fit too. You really do know me inch by inch, don’t you~?”

“And you really never stop, do you.”

“Nope. My love is eternal, babe.” Zen winks playfully. Then his expression softens again and he steps forward to caress Saeran’s face. “You know...this is one of the best things anyone’s ever given me.”

Saeran gives him a doubtful look.

“I’m serious!” Zen insists. “You put so much love and care into this. And this way I can feel that wherever I go.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” 

Zen’s eyebrows raise. “You’re the one that hand-knitted me a turtleneck, babe.”

Saeran sighs roughly and pulls Zen down into a kiss. “Maybe I just want to give you things.” He murmurs against his mouth. “And maybe you should just shut up and accept them, idiot.”

Zen hums in response, eyes half-lidded. “I’ll accept anything you want to give me.”

Saeran smirks. “Is that right?” He kisses him again, longer this time. When they part again he lets their foreheads rest together.

“So, no more obscure talents that you’re hiding?” Zen says after a moment.

Saeran stares back at him flatly.

“No? Are you sure? What about lion tamer?”

Saeran rolls his eyes, grabs a hold of the neck of the turtleneck, one hand on either side, and slides it right over Zen’s face. 

“Mmph?!” Zen flails, instinctively leaning back. His hands immediately go to pull it back down again, but Saeran snags his wrists to keep him from doing it. 

“Nope. You’re in timeout.” Saeran snickers. 

“What!” Zen exclaims, muffled through the fabric. 

“You’re in timeout.” Saeran repeats. “And if you try to take that off you don’t get to kiss me again.”

He can’t see it clearly, just the indistinct downturn of the shape of Zen’s lips, but he can practically feel Zen’s pout. “I can’t believe you’re threatening me with a lack of kisses.” Zen moans dramatically. “I’ll wither away and die. Are you really going to let me waste away like this?”

“Hm. I might consider letting you go with good behavior.”

“Good behavior, huh.” A beat or two passes. “You know, this feels a little bit like I’m wearing a mask.” Amusement grows in Zen’s voice. “Maybe I should get used to this. After all you could consider it doing my civic duty to protect people from my blinding beauty, right? Taking responsibility for the great gift of my face.” 

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Maybe I should walk the streets just like this.” Zen continues, milking it. “This is my new style now. The paparazzi might be disappointed, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”

“You’re in timeout forever now.” Saeran scoffs, paying no heed to Zen’s protesting whine. “Why am I dating you again?”

“Because I’m incredibly handsome~” Zen answers immediately. “And because I make you laugh~”

“Do you.” Saeran challenges.

“Absolutely.” 

And then Zen attacks Saeran’s face with kisses. He peppers them everywhere, little yarn kisses on every available bit of Saeran’s face. Saeran yelps. He’d try to push Zen’s head away but he doesn’t want to drop his hold on Zen’s wrists yet. 

“Hey! You’re not supposed to kiss me.” Saeran tries to scowl.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you if I took it off.” Zen corrects, pressing a yarn kiss to Saeran’s nose. “I still have it on so I can kiss you as much as I want.”

Then he continues his assault, moving down to Saeran’s neck until he wrings peals of laughter out of him. Saeran finally drops Zen’s wrists and shoves at him. “Cut it out, dork.” Saeran grumbles with a smile. He takes a hold of the collar of the turtleneck and shimmies it back down again where it’s supposed to be. “Your stupid fat head is going to ruin the sweater I made you.”

And before Zen can start up his overblown wounded act, Saeran grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him into another real kiss. 

“Does this mean I’m out of timeout?” Zen asks, eyes glinting with humor.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?!”

“Yeah. You said I know you inch by inch.” Saeran smirks, his hand slipping under the hem to tease the skin along Zen’s hip. “Think you could let me know you a little better than that?”

“Of course.” Zen promises, smirking back. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up @rixsig_writes on twitter!


End file.
